Chapter 439: Host an International Summit and Drag Britain Into the Fray?

The silence on the other end of the phone carried more weight than any fierce questioning.

In the penthouse suite of Saint Remo Apartment, time seemed stretched into thick syrup, each second dragging unusually slowly.

David Cohen lay on the carpet, straining his mind to comprehend everything that had just happened.

First he sparred with an emperor named Rockefeller, then haggled with the U. S. President; now his boss called back to that mysterious Eastern nation, apparently to convene a… a meeting he never even dared to imagine.

"My God…" David covered his face, feeling that all the knowledge he'd acquired on Wall Street in his life seemed so pale and ridiculous before Lu Qingshan, "He's not short‑selling Wall Street; he's organizing the Eight‑Nation Alliance to strike back at Wall Street…"

Li Junjie and Zhang Qianru's bodies were taut like two fully drawn bowstrings.

Their hearts pounded in their chests—not fear, but a supreme exhilaration mingled with national pride and the thrill of shaping history.

They watched Lu Qingshan's silhouette, which at that moment seemed to merge with, no, to tower over the steel jungle outside the window that symbolized the world's financial heart.

Finally, a steady voice came through the phone.

"Okay."

Just a single word.

But that word carried an undeniable authority and promise.

"The conference system will be set up within an hour, and the encrypted line will connect directly to your terminal. The list of participants will be sent to your assistant's mailbox in five minutes."

"Prepare yourself."

The call ended.

Lu Qingshan placed the handset back, then turned to face his completely stunned team.

"What are you all just standing there for?"

His voice snapped everyone out of their daze.

"Ye Ning."

"Boss, I'm here," Ye Ning inhaled deeply, forcing the turmoil inside her down.

"Turn the breakout plan we just discussed for AIG into the most concise presentation. Highlight three points: first, the loss AIG's bankruptcy would cause them; second, how much they could earn according to our plan; third, the long‑term strategic significance of this opportunity for our nation's financial security."

"Got it!" Ye Ning's fingertips flew across the keyboard as she entered a hyper‑operating state.

"Zhang Qianru, Li Junjie."

"Here!" the two replied in unison.

"You two are responsible for supplementing technical and legal details during the conference. Any question they raise, you must provide the most professional answer within three seconds. Can you do that?"

"Can!"

"Promise to complete the task!"

A fanatical gleam shone on both of their faces.

Lu Qingjun watched the scene, silently walked to the bar, and began brewing fresh coffee for everyone.

He knew a conference a hundred, even a thousand times more important than short‑selling Lehman Brothers was about to begin.

He couldn't help in other ways, so he could only handle logistics.

In under five minutes, Ye Ning's encrypted mailbox received a document.

She opened the file, glanced at it once, and her breath halted again.

She looked up, her voice trembling as if half‑dreaming.

"Boss… the list has arrived…"

"Participating institutions include… People's Bank of China, Foreign Exchange Administration Bureau, Huaxia Investment Limited Liability Company, Huaxia Commercial Bank, Huaxia Construction Bank…"

With each name she read, Li Junjie and Zhang Qianru's expressions grew more solemn.

These names represent the Four pillars of the Huaxia financial system!

This is the real National Team!

David Cohen didn't understand the Chinese names, but seeing Li Junjie and Zhang Qianru's almost‑divine expressions, he could roughly guess their weight.

He despairingly closed his eyes, muttering, "Fine, I believe it now; the boss really intends to dismantle and buy out America…"

Ten minutes later.

On the apartment's largest screen, the image split into a dozen sections.

Aside from the main screen showing "Xinghan Capital," the other screens displayed only institution names—no faces, no sound, just a swath of solemn black.

But everyone knew that behind those dozen black screens were a dozen top decision‑makers controlling tens of trillions of Huaxia yuan assets.

A secret conference spanning the Pacific, capable of reshaping the global financial order, quietly opened in a private apartment in New York Manhattan.

"Good evening, leaders; I am Lu Qingshan."

Lu Qingshan sat at the head of the table, facing the screen, composed as if delivering an ordinary business briefing.

No one responded.

Only the screen representing Capital City, the square belonging to Wang Xiansheng, lit a tiny green microphone icon.

"Time is precious; let's begin."

"Okay."

Lu Qingshan pressed a button, and Ye Ning's prepared presentation synced to everyone's screens.

"The situation, Minister Wang already gave a brief overview. Wall Street is ready to sacrifice AIG and go down with us. This is their Yang Plan and a trap."

"According to our calculations, once AIG files for bankruptcy, the total loss from all AIG‑related bonds, CDS contracts, and other derivatives you hold will exceed one hundred billion US Dollars."

A blood‑red figure appeared on the screen.

"And that is only the direct loss."

"Worse yet, AIG's collapse will trigger a global financial tsunami, shattering US Dollar credit; our nation's massive US Dollar foreign‑exchange reserves will face severe shrinkage risk. This loss is incalculable."

Lu Qingshan's voice remained calm, yet each sentence hammered like a heavy weight on the unseen participants' hearts.

"But crisis, too, is opportunity."

He shifted his tone, and the image on the screen changed from blood‑red loss figures to a complex yet clear action roadmap.

"My plan is simple, divided into three steps."

"First step: turn passivity into initiative. We will unite all overseas institutions shackled by AIG, shift from creditors to a debt‑collecting 'Underworld', generate global public opinion, and pressure the US Government and the Federal Reserve, forcing them to intervene to rescue AIG."

"Second step: loot amid the chaos. Before their rescue plan is announced, we will exploit the market's extreme panic, buy AIG stock at the lowest price, and become shareholders."

"Third step, also the crucial one, is to take over the nest. When the US Government is forced to inject massive capital into AIG and revive the company, we, as shareholders, will have the right to take part in its restructuring and future development. AIG, the world's largest insurance‑financial conglomerate, will no longer be a purely American company; its veins will carry our blood."

"Moreover, we can demand that AIG's most valuable assets—such as its aircraft leasing company, its global real‑estate investment portfolio, and its Asian business—be spun off under our control. Those global quality assets that originally belong to the United States would become ours."

The entire conference room was terrifyingly quiet.

Lu Qingshan's plan can no longer be described as merely "bold".

This is digging at America's roots!

It is dismembering America's financial hegemony!

A long while passed.

A screen lit up with a microphone icon, and a slightly hoarse voice sounded from Huaxia Investment Limited Liability Company.

"Director Lu, your plan is theoretically feasible, but the risk is enormous. First, how can we guarantee that the US Government will definitely rescue AIG? What if they would rather endure the risk of a global financial collapse to kill Xinghan?"

"They wouldn't dare," Lu Qingshan replied decisively, "because behind AIG lies the entire US pension system, the lifelong savings of tens of millions of Americans. President Reagan wouldn't gamble. No US president would ever risk that."

"Second question," another screen lit up, from the People's Bank, "Our purchase of AIG stock requires massive capital. In this process, if Wall Street pushes back, we could find ourselves on the defensive."

"Funding is not an issue," Lu Qingshan answered calmly. "When we shorted Lehman, Xinghan Capital already profited over one hundred billion US Dollars. That sum is enough to support our initial equity acquisition."

"Regarding the pushback," Lu Qingshan smiled, "they are already overwhelmed; the fire at Bear Stearns and Merrill Lynch has reached the eyebrows, and they have no energy to deal with us. Moreover, in this war we are not the protagonists; the protagonists are the European, Japanese and Middle Eastern banks that are about to lose everything. We only need to give a gentle shove from behind."

One question after another was raised.

Lu Qingshan answered each question perfectly.

His thinking was as meticulous as a supercomputer; for every risk point and every possible variable, he prepared more than one contingency.

Li Junjie and Zhang Qianru stood behind him, their initial tension having turned into pure admiration.

They felt they were not attending a meeting but auditing a lecture delivered by a deity themselves on how to control the world.

Finally, all the screens went dark.

Only the screen representing Minister Wang remained, its green icon still lit.

The conference room fell into final silence.

Everyone knew the ultimate decision would be made by Wang Xiansheng.

Time passed, minute by minute, second by second.

As the atmosphere in the apartment was about to solidify, Wang Xiansheng's voice sounded again.

"I agree with your plan."

"From now on, the Foreign Exchange Administration Bureau, China Investment, and all major banks, any overseas AIG‑related asset operations, shall be coordinated by you."

"Comrade Lu Qingshan, the state has placed the sword in your hands."

"How to wield it, you decide."

"I have only one request."

"Please, go ahead."

"Win it."

As the words finished, all the screens went out.

The meeting ended.

The apartment erupted in a burst of intensely suppressed cheers.

Li Junjie and Lu Qingjun embraced excitedly, hopping and leaping.

Zhang Qianru covered her mouth, her eyes instantly reddening as tears swirled.

David Cohen didn't fully understand, but he knew his boss had created another miracle. He rushed excitedly to Lu Qingshan, spreading his arms to give him a hug.

Lu Qingshan brushed him aside and stepped back.

"Alright, stop acting like maniacs," he waved his hand. "Now that the excitement is over, it's time to get to work!"

"Yes!"

The whole team reentered combat mode.

At that moment, two bold red breaking news alerts from different sources popped up simultaneously on Ye Ning's computer.

She glanced at them, her expression turning extremely strange.

"Boss… something's happened. But it's not Wall Street."

Everyone's movements froze.

Ye Ning pointed at the screen and read out the two headlines.

"Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, Mrs. Thatcher, fell while visiting Huaxia in front of the People's Hall."

"Huaxia's top leader evaluated the British side: 'Sovereignty issues are not up for discussion,' and added, 'Chinese people may be a bit poor, but they are not afraid to die in war.'"

These two seemingly unrelated political news items left the still‑fervent crowd in the apartment a little bewildered.

What does the British Prime Minister's fall have to do with us?

At that instant, two phones rang almost simultaneously, echoing through the entire apartment.

One was a call from Li Zhi'an and Wilson, dialing in from London.

The other was an encrypted phone Ye Ning had just received, intended for communications with Europe.

Ye Ning answered the encrypted line, heard only a single sentence, and her eternally icy expression's pupils contracted sharply.

She covered the microphone, speaking in a tone mixing shock and bewilderment, and looked at Lu Qingshan.

"Boss…"

It's... it's Downing Street 10, the United Kingdom Prime Minister's Office calling.

They would like to ask you... regarding the current situation, to provide some 'advice'.